No Rest for the Wicked

It may be a national holiday, but--as Sam pointed out himself--he never takes a break from his all-important "work." This morning he proved that point by turning in a milk jug project he'd been hard at work on since I let him outside at 7 am:

Lactose intolerance: discriminating against milk jugs

I'm hoping I can convince him to take a day off, for our sake if not for his. Then again, he's probably trying to get in as much as he can before this Friday, when he'll be (shhhh) N-E-U-T-E-R-E-D. More on that later.

Oh, and as for my worries about the fireworks? Unfounded. Sam didn't even notice them. Once the first bangs started, he started looking around, and I took him outside with me to investigate. Every time we heard a pop, I'd go, "What was that?" in the same voice I use when pointing out squirrels or bugs to him, and then we'd play a bit. Apparently this method worked a little too well, because for the rest of the night, whenever he heard a firework go off, he'd launch himself at either me or Dad and want to wrestle.

So no problems with fireworks, and an impending, life-altering vet visit on the horizon... quite a loaded start to the week!

Oh, and one more thing: I filmed Sam showing off his current repertoire of tricks last week. He knows a few that aren't on camera, like touching his paw to the doorjamb when he wants to go out or come inside. And we're still working on putting his toys away, as well as tracking a duck-scented dummy through the yard. Once he gets those down, I'll film them, as well.